


Wonderland Within

by madwanderer



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madwanderer/pseuds/madwanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>| A very brief forray into a mad man's mind; the depictions of an insane love. |</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderland Within

Wonderland would burst from within her in the same vibrancy he could almost taste with each step through the looking glass, each foray into that land of toxic saturation, taking on an iridescence in its every part that only a world reached by a mirror could withhold.

He knew that Wonderland thrived inside of her very core at moments such as these; when he’d shut his eyes as he placed gentle kisses over the curve of her spine, lips dragging out an all-too-familiar pattern over the ridges of her back, swallowing every curve and bump. She tasted of the same sweetness her perfumed rags held; the same pinprick of fragrant sugar her honeysuckle plants held, the plants she adored, would suckle on just as the name suggested and eagerly coo to him that she’d found herself a candy trove amongst the flowers. The moments wherein he’d find himself lost in a garden of her; bright daisies erupting from each spot his lips would vacate, a variety of wondrous, beautiful flowers, exotic and alluring in the bends of her spine.  


None of them he recognised— only the daisies; only did he ever recognise her daisies. His eyes would be shut but he’d claim these visions real, lured by her intricate fragrance, the honeyed taste to her, the soft, pearly skin that adorned her. Flowers of every color he knew and several he didn’t know seemed to grow forth from her like she were the _Terra Mater_ herself and giving birth to an unexplored beauty, these petals opening and blossoming over her skin with every melodic giggle she gave him as reward for every brush of his mouth against her.

Each laugh, each hypnotic noise she let spill from her glimmering, petal-soft lips brought him further and further into this fantasy, a whole forest erupting around her, the plants blossoming forth on her back greeting their sisters with a whisper in this imaginary breeze; this garden of Alice and his Alice only, each flower representing a part of her, each flower-head drooping with the weight of its petals only further symbolic of its mother, the flowerbeds in their entirety proving such an alluring beauty he couldn’t tear his eyes from them, from the golden, small, bulbous flowers to the drooping, white petals that may very well have been an angel’s gossamer wings laid carefully over the plant itself, to even the bright red shoots with their looping leaves of a color that Jefferson could not dare to name, for he could certainly say he’d never seen such a hue before.

He had stilled in just the small of her back; nose tickled by the imaginary petals of daisies as he again kissed the opened, welcoming buds and lavished her in his affections, her laughter soon turning into the melody of this world created of her and her brilliance, her vibrancy, her beauty and all of her wonder— every romanticised aspect to her he could think of, engulfing him, re-decorating their little cottage room with its wooden bed and mismatched quilt into a forest of _his_ Alice’s every part, a forest he could have happily spent his remaining days within, kissing forth life and beauty from every inch of her skin, the flowers only adding to her allure and the spell she held over him, the fierce love he held for his lost, mad girl that threatened to consume him whole.

—But of course, such illusions were shattered when she would shift and writhe beneath him, ever restless, urging him to move— and he’d sit up on the pads of his elbows, torn from his reveries and in his nearly ever-present haze and she would shift and settle beneath him, golden hair fawned about her like a frame for a DaVinci; and he would kiss her properly and take in and devour her every breath and song, if only for his aforementioned forest to near erupt in its vibrancy, to drive him out of his mind with her beauty and topple over the brink of madness, but such a fall was something he knew he had longed for since the day he’d met her.


End file.
